


To Never Forget

by hardisb73



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26810251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardisb73/pseuds/hardisb73
Summary: Caleb thinks of what each of the Nein mean to him before he visits each of those mysterious nine rooms in the hidden layer of the tower.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Jester Lavorre & Caleb Widogast
Kudos: 19





	To Never Forget

Caleb laughed ruefully as the final member of the Mighty Nein finally exited the library of his newly created tower. Sipping on the last of his Zemnian lager, he recounted the events of the night. He had finally shown his friends… his family, the creation he had waited so long to show off. He had been planning, crafting this spell ever since that awful business in Shadycreek Run. When Molly had fallen. When Jester and the others had been taken, kidnapped from under their sleeping noses. If only he hadn’t been so weak. Lorenzo and his gang seemed so small compared to the problems that recently plagued the Nein. The war. Uka’toa. Vokodo. But that vile group had brought the Nein closer to the edge than any other enemy. Three in chains with uncertain futures of torture and slavery. One dying in a feeble attempt to rescue the taken. The dome had helped for a time. It kept them safe and warm on those cold nights in the wilderness. Offered some semblance of protection from all of the countless dangers of Exandria. A little cramped but it served its purpose and would continue to do so on nights he could not create this tower. Sometimes a certain tiefling was close on those cold nights as well.

“Stop that.” Caleb thought to himself. His thoughts often went back to that same blue tiefling in moments of solitude. “It’s a fools dream to think anything is there.”

He tried to focus on the book in his lap. Advanced Transmutational Algorithms. But as much as he wanted to lose himself in the equations and proofs, that same aching, clawing feeling resurfaced in the back of his mind. You don’t deserve this. This is all a sham. They are only using you until you’re not necessary. She thinks you’re a disgusting monster for what you did. Caleb couldn’t help but chuckle to himself slightly. The list used to be longer. Louder too. The voices sometimes felt like they would drown him once again, sending him into the pit of nothingness that he had once found himself before regaining his senses in that sanatorium. That, of course, was before he had found the Nein. Before he had met Nott... Veth... his best friend no matter what she called herself. Before he had begun to open up about the once unspeakable moments from his past in that inn in Zadash. Beau and Nott were the first to hear about his crimes. And everyday after that, he expected the truth to be dragged out to bear. The whole group would learn of the atrocities he couldn’t even think of himself without wavering. Back when even seeing a flame could set him off. But then, after a while, he realized that they weren’t going to tell anyone else. He had found people he could confide in. People he could trust. Odd company to find in an arcane thief and an expositor. Just another of the many ways the Nein have surprised him. He had seen Yasha and Fjord travelling down such dark paths. One under the control of someone else, the other having just found a new power within their grasp. Two very familiar places Caleb had found himself at different points in his journey. 

Caleb stood and began making his way toward the center of the tower. With a flick of his wrist he began to ascend. Each layer only reminded him of how fortunate he had been over the past year. 

Yasha. The surprisingly perceptive barbarian. Not always of the world around her, but if given the chance, she could read a person like Caleb did one of his many books. As quiet as she is, she certainly has a way of cutting to the quick of things. That sudden, out of the blue question in the jungle had certainly thrown the transmutation wizard for a loop. He had been sure that he had hidden his feelings so well, but Yasha had read him like one of those very books. He had come to admire that demeanor of her’s. As the two quiet introverts of the group, there seemed to be a friendly connection between them that didn’t need words. On some level, to a degree, they understood each other. Both had known trauma, tragedy. Both had been controlled by larger powers attempting to expand their own prowess. Both had committed unspeakable acts that they would have never considered otherwise. He was happy that she could begin to overcome those demons and move on, however slightly these small steps seemed. If only he could allow himself such happiness. If only he could attone for those sins that his controlled body had committed.

Caduceus. The moral compass of the group. Perhaps the most perceptive person Caleb had ever met. It was odd to him that Cad hadn’t brought up his burgeoning feelings for her. If Yasha had noticed it, there was no way Caleb could see that Cad hadn’t. But Caleb really didn’t mind if Caduceus knew. He didn’t seem like the kind of firbolg that would let information like that slip, and he often could tell that Cad saw deeper into Caleb than he might’ve wanted. He knew there was a darkness there even before Caleb had had to tell the party about that night long ago. While Caleb himself might not have as deep an appreciation for the gods, Caduceus had shown him another side of the divine through Fjord that he had not thought possible for himself. A second chance at life. A second chance at everything. From the moment the Nein met him, grieving for Molly, Caduceus had been there for all of them with his wisdom.

The guest room. Caleb himself didn’t even know who that room was for. While it could serve a purpose in the future, why have it here now? He could easily create it when company was there. It seemed pointless to have it around. But deep down, he knew why he kept it here. It wasn’t for the people who were going to visit. It was for those who couldn’t anymore. His parents. Molly. And depending on how far gone they were, Astrid and Eodwulf. Upwards he continued. 

Fjord, his blood brother. The man he’d trust to talk his way out of any situation. Captain of the Balleater. Er, former captain of the Balleater as their reliable vessel was now at the bottom of the ocean thanks to that dragon turtle. The man who had cast his newfound power away, literally reforging himself in the fire of that volcano. Fjord had been gifted with otherworldly power that seemed to let him shape his entire reality around him. Something Caleb himself had been introduced to recently. For the half-orc warlock now paladin, this meant control of the sea, the very water around him. This gave him control after a lifetime of having none. To the human wizard, this was dunamancy. The power to shape gravity and even time itself. He could possibly shape the past, right the wrongs. Fjord had walked away from that tempting unknown. He had a strength that Caleb couldn’t say for sure that he had. The power to let go of the memories holding him back. He was someone who’d make her happy. Caleb shook his head again. 

“Stop that, Widogast.” 

Beauregard. His study buddy. Might as well be his sister. The one who called him on his shit if he strayed too far down the darker paths of his research. A friend who had been willing to live a life of exile, just to save one halfling’s existence. The first true risk Caleb had taken with the Nein had been with her. Beau may not have the same moral aptitude as say, Caduceus, but she definitely had a way of keeping you on the straight and narrow. Caleb smiled as he remembered the many mornings of the monk dragging Fjord away from the group to complete their exercises. Their waltz in the Rexxentrum dance hall. Even the time Veth had shot her in the ass. Beau had been a glue that had held this group together many times, and Caleb was glad she had been one of the first he had revealed his part to. It had begun to open his eyes to trusting others again. 

Jester. What was there even to say? The waltz. Shopping in Xhorhaz. Studying with Essek. Silent nights on Rumblecusp. The first night the Nein had met. Too many moments to count within the past year or so. Caleb knew he wanted more. To be able to live a normal life. Free from these demons. For now, he’d have to settle with calling this place home. Calling these wonderful people his family. Hopefully, this family wouldn’t go up in flames like his last. Hopefully, one day, he’d allow himself some happiness. Jester wasn’t the answer to these problems, he knew that. But she was a beacon shining in what seemed like a never ending abyss. She made him want to be the man he wanted to be. The man he should be. But not yet. Not fully, until other matters had been settled.

Rising to the eighth layer, Caleb came to the last section of bedrooms. 

Veth. His best friend. The first person he had truly trusted after escaping that sanatorium. The woman who had saved his life, most likely. He had come to love her. Months of travelling, sleeping in close quarters, and lonely nights could do that to a person. Scrounging for whatever they could manage, pulling cons when they could. It hadn’t been his preferred system, not by a long shot, but it was a system all the same. He had someone he could trust again. Perhaps at the start, he could relate to the small goblin in front of him. Tossed out by society, abandoned. He hadn’t known the horrors this halfling had been through, but neither had she known his. Both had found another broken soul, someone else who just needed someone. His love for her was complicated. Perhaps at one time, deep down, he might’ve considered it romantic. But it was more, somehow deeper than that. It wasn’t quite the same as what he felt for Jester. But Caleb didn’t like thinking of the day when Veth would return home to her family for the last time. It wasn’t jealousy that spurned this hesitancy. He would simply miss his friend.

This group had left its mark on Caleb. It was unavoidable, especially when in the company of such extraordinary people. This was Caleb’s home now. These were his friends now. 

… but Caleb couldn’t forget what had come before. Those who were gone. Those he could save. Those he couldn’t. Caleb knew the pain of being forgotten. He didn’t want anyone he cared for to feel that way. He also couldn’t forget his own near misses. His towing the line. Many times he had been shown examples of what he could become. If he let the pain of his past consume him. If he was no better than Trent. 

"Fort, doch nicht vergessen" he silently whispered to himself. The ceiling above him silently opened to his hidden layer. This layer wasn’t for the others. It was for him to remember. To never forget. As he rose to this layer, nine doors were neatly arranged on each wall. Each had been specific. Each had been… painstakingly remembered. Walking forward, he came to the first of these doors. 

Entering brought him into his family home. A projected image laying out the scene before him. A cat curled up in front of the fireplace, slowly crackling in the fall crisp air. Harvest had just ended. Caleb looked out the windows at the amber fields, the orange and red trees. For a moment he couldn’t bring himself to look at the front door. A deep breath, a sigh, he tearily looked. There were his parents. Still alive, happily waving out the door. Down the road, a horse drawn carriage could be seen heading away. This was the day he had left home, off to join Trent’s special classes at the Cerberus Assembly. His parents had been so happy for him, thrilled that he had been especially chosen for this high honor. All they wanted was for him to make them proud. To make the Empire proud. What he wanted to remember from this was his belief in an Empire to fight for. The current one was flawed, almost to the point of being irredeemable. But if there was even a sliver of it being salvageable, a possibility it could be that nation his parents wanted it to be, Caleb would strive to fix his homeland. He owed his parents that… and so much more. But, one problem at a time. Closing the door, he wiped his eyes and began to move to the next door. Plenty more tears were probably going to be shed tonight. 

The second door revealed a dark, lifeless room. Three chairs, each with sets of leather straps. Medical tables were arranged around the trio, with faint bits of gemstone dust left sprinkling them. Caleb rubbed his arms remembering the pain. The hours of experiments, surgeries, and punishments. Trent had not been a kind mentor, to say the least. While Caleb’s hatred for the man had grown and seethed for years, the warmth of the Nein had recently reopened his eyes to a truth that the pain had clouded. He hadn’t endured all of this alone. Eadwulf and Astrid were still in this hell. They may not be tied down daily and infused with magical runes anymore, but the puppetmaster still had his strings in them. That’s why Caleb had purposefully added the other two chairs to this memory. For a long time, the pain had only shown one. But he needed to get the others out if possible. He couldn’t forget his former friends. Astrid, at the very least, seemed to be willing to escape the man. Eadwulf was as stoic as ever. At some point, they’d have a choice. Caleb just wanted to make sure that the choice existed in the first place. 

He found himself in front of the third door. The acrid smell of burning pine already signaled what was inside. Caleb had once found the smell comforting when he was a child. On long winter nights, curled up by the fire with his childhood cat next to him. This was the hardest door to open, he had relived this moment more times than he could count. In dreams. During a dungeon crawl. It never fully left the back of his mind. The screams and popping of the flames. Collecting himself, he opened the door. Caleb hadn’t been back to his childhood home since that fateful day. He couldn’t bring himself to see if the husk of the house had been removed for a new home to be built. The last time he had seen it, was as shown before him. The house alight. Two darkened figures standing in front of the home. The cart blocking the door. The giant plume of flame rising before him. The screams… This was the moment he had broken. When all of the strain of what had been asked of him had come crashing down. Where his devotion to country had overpowered his devotion to family. This was his greatest sin. No matter how many good deeds were done by the Nein. No matter if he defeated his former master, fixed the Assembly, and rooted out all corruption from the Empire, this still happened. No matter if he let himself be happy. He needed to remember this...no, he had to. Maybe someday, if the gods somehow could balance this scale, he’d have a chance to explain himself to his parents. Why he had done what he did, why he had been misled, why they had died. Why he had met Veth, Jester, the rest of the Nein. Why he was a hero to the Kryn Dynasty, a pirate of the Revelry. This moment was the moment. No matter how much the Nein accepted him despite it, this moment would always be with him. 

Closing the door, he came to the fourth. Opening this door, he entered what seemed to be a never ending abyss. Hazy, dark. This room represented his decade lost. His time as one of the forgotten. Before that woman had snapped him back to reality and shown him some light. But this light had only burned him. It made him realize what really happened that night. The lies implanted in his head. His blind devotion in believing them. Even if he regretted it, he still had wanted to do it at the time. He’d had to kill to escape, steal to remain hidden. Perhaps that follower of Trent was innocent of all of it, having no idea of what Ikathon had been doing. Perhaps he was another of the many kids that been hand picked by the old man. Maybe one day Caleb would get the answers to his questions, but at least he could ask questions. At least he wasn’t drowning in this abyss any longer. 

The fifth door opened to a vast, snow covered field. A line of carts on a road. A fallen tree. A fallen comrade. Before him stood Lorenzo, that damn oni. Glaive thrust down into Molly. This moment came long after the sanitorium. He had met the Nein, begun to trust again. A few nights before then, he had even let himself have fun again. He had waltzed with Jester, partaken in a drinking contest, and thanks to the sweet blue tiefling, not ended up passed out in a gutter. Things had been going well. Almost as if they were happening to this Caleb Widogast he had created. Not Bren. But then, on the road a few days later, they’d awoken to half of their party missing. There was a half-assed attempt to save the others. And Bren was reminded all over again that this world could be an unforgiving one. They simply had been outmatched, Lorenzo too strong to simply try an unplanned attack on the road. The oni’s mindset reminded Caleb of when he had been brought prisoners. He had set examples, much like the one Lorenzo had. One of his new family had died. One who had a habit of leaving places better than when they had found it. And the world was that much worse off with their absence.

Beyond the sixth door, a scene played out not too long after the previous one. They had just defeated Lorenzo and his wretched gang. They had found a few new comrades, one that would end up staying with the Nein to this day. But even with this victory, the sight before Caleb wasn’t one of jubilation. The room depicted the chambers below the Iron Shepherd’s lair. The torture rooms. Where they would break their new captives bodies and spirits. This is where Yasha, Fjord, and Jester had to remain for a handful of days. He didn’t see them here now, he had purposefully omitted their images. But the room had awoken so many painful images. The instruments and tables had reminded him of what he had gone through as a teen. A part of his life he thought he had escaped. But this happened a lot across this planet, to many people that he’d never know. This had happened to his new family, to Jester. This was the moment he had promised himself he would protect them at all costs. The moment that had led to the dome and culminating in this tower. He would remember this to keep himself focused on protecting this found family at all costs. 

The seventh door had a similar scent to the third. Fire, burning. Stepping through, Caleb found himself in an underground cavern. At the far end of the room, he could see the rest of the Nein looking back at him. The orange glow of an unexpected fireball hurtling towards them, their faces twisted in surprise and fear as the spell raced toward them. Her terrified face. Even now Caleb could hear the succubus all over again. 

“Light them up, pretty.” 

Once again, Caleb had found himself not of his own mind. Once again he was being used to hurt those he held closest to him. If Trent’s meddling in his mind hadn’t possibly convinced him that messing with another entity's memories only led to ruin, this moment only solidified that position. Caleb had nearly been the death of two families, and he would be damned if it happened again while he could help it. 

The penultimate door opened to reveal a sight that Caleb never thought he’d see. King Dwendel’s throne room. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be in this room, much less as an envoy for the Kryn dynasty. The Nein had just gotten Yasha back from Obann. They’d repelled the cult of the Chained Oblivion from loosening the binds that held him. And Caleb found himself in the one city he never wanted to return to. He had imagined the moment he’d see Trent again hundreds of times. They had often ended with the old man dying as Caleb choked the life from him. Other times it ended with Caleb’s doom. He wasn’t naive, he knew the power gap between his master and himself was almost astronomical. One didn’t sit on the Assembly without being able to shape the reality around them seemingly to their whims. But what actually happened had never even been considered. 

“Especially you, Bren.”

Cordigal. Almost pleasant to an outsider. The image before Caleb was of Trent standing before him, acknowledging that he knew Caleb’s true identity. Just standing there. Soaking in the satisfaction of the knowledge, knowing that Caleb could do nothing to retaliate without looking like a traitor. More than he already was for consorting with the Kryn at the very least. Caleb had always envisioned himself alone at this meeting. Who would possibly stand with him after what he had done? But he wasn’t. Looking around he saw the Nein, standing protectively around him. Jester by his side. It was more than he deserved, but then again, this whole group was more than he deserved. He wanted to remember this as the moment he’d overcome his greatest fear of being discovered. Before he was strong enough to defeat Trent. But Caleb had found something more valuable than revenge. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

As Caleb approached the final door, he took a deep breath. The previous doors had shown what had been, what had happened. His reality. This door hid what might have been. Caleb was not so blind as not to see how powerful he and the Nein had become. He was on the verge of mastering spells that could shape his reality however he wanted. With his recent discovery of the possibilities of dunamancy, that power could even extend to time itself. If Caleb could do all of that, why shouldn’t he? He had mastered it. It was his power. This was the fatal trap that many arcane practitioners fell into. Arrogance. Caleb wasn’t immune to this either, and it had nearly cost him what he cherished most.

The final door opened to an underwater cavern. A recent battle was unfolding before him beneath Rumblecusp. Within the dim chamber silhouetted across from him , clinging to life having just returned from the Astral Plane, Vokodo. The group had decided to return the pseudogod to its lair in an attempt to procure its vast horde of riches. Caleb hadn’t protested, he himself was curious what relics might be hidden away in the treasure, or perhaps funds that could cover the necessary materials for the upcoming TravelerCon. The group knew of the creature’s spell reflecting abilities, but Caleb was confident that his spell would find its mark. So the image showed the sickly green ray of the disintegrate spell hitting this magical barrier of Vokodo. And in that moment, he realized what he had just done. That spell would reflect, hitting the one who had just sent the monster back to its home plane. The plane it had fled from when it crashed into Exandria, running for its life. It would take all of its fury of being sent back there, and bring it crashing down on Jester. There was nothing Caleb could do. The spell had been cast, it was going to reflect. He could see her now, withering away to dust as the beast laughed, its final act of cruelty inflicted on this world. The thought of her dying was unbearable. The one person he couldn’t lose. The pain of the succubus’s trance filled him once again. The fireball careening toward her. He’d gotten lucky then, now fate would take from him the person he loved. But then… the spell took hold. It wasted Vokodo away to nothingness. But while the others celebrated, in the back of Caleb’s mind, he knew what had nearly happened. His arrogance had nearly killed Jester. He had rolled the dice, and this time, the gamble paid off. But what about next time? Everyone’s luck ran out eventually. Twice now, he’d nearly killed her with his own magic. 

Caleb closed the final door and simply stood in the middle of the chamber for a few moments. These memories were important. They needed to be kept. No longer to tie himself down, but to show him the way out. Quite a life for the son of simple farmers. It had quite a few dark spots, more than most. But the bright spots were beginning to overtake the dark. For the first time in a long time, he could honestly say he had hope for the future. His new family accepted him despite all of this baggage, these scars. Despite it all, Caleb smiled to himself. As he opened the hatch to descend down to his bed chambers, he remembered the advice he had given Yasha on Rumblecusp. For a moment, the scent of pastries filled his senses and he smiled again. Perhaps he’d allow himself to start to be happy, if only just a little.


End file.
